What's your type?

If you ask me what defines my type of man’s man, my answer would most likely be crafted to flirt with a Bo within earshot. If I had to go by the infatuations I’ve had in the past, they tend to be short, dark, and strong. 

One thing they all shared is that they left me stumbling and infatuated at first sight. Yet because some of them buck the trend entirely, they screw with the stats—which makes me wonder whether my so-called “type” was never really about height, hair, or build at all. Maybe it was simply a yearning desire to defy the shackles of morality and shatter the bondage of social convention… …to ride astride the rush of arousal. 

To lose oneself in the lure of unbridled intent. 

To share the ebb of curious abandon or lap in the splendor of timeless wonder, mutual pleasure, and unbridled awe—wading naked and bare, together in the wake of Nature’s co-creative confluence. Ecstatic. Exalted. Sated. Blissfully content.

Instead, I’m wont to weave a tangled web of intrigue: justifying my voyeurism, defending my social aversion, or avoiding the raw fear of true intimacy. Besides, the question itself remains a fickle yet curiously enduring one: Does anyone else share my mercurial taste in men? 

Following up on a post I made featuring a crush that always gets me hard and horny led me to you—and to the fascinating possibility that we might share a “type,” judging by our mutual interest.

Be that as it may, please feel free to ignore my infernal diatribe, or DM me with your thoughts, opinions, or personal experience.